


I Like the Way You Think

by hunters_retreat



Series: The Clock Verse [17]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Dean goes to Stanford with Sam, Ficlet, M/M, Stanford Era, Timestamp
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-08-12
Updated: 2011-08-12
Packaged: 2018-09-16 13:41:09
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,329
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9274541
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hunters_retreat/pseuds/hunters_retreat
Summary: Sam and Dean and a little dancing.  Set sometime after Six O'Clock





	

  

 

Music pumped loudly around them and Dean looked across the dance floor to see his brother caught in the middle of a group of girls, dragging Sam close as they laughed and swayed around him. He couldn’t blame them. Sam was dressed to impress tonight; black tee shirt pulling across the strong muscles of his chest, tight jeans that showed his ass off way too much for Dean’s well-being, and a blue button up completely unbuttoned that turned hazel eyes blue. Sam was laughing, enjoying the impromptu night out. Dean hadn’t told him the reason they were out tonight and Sam hadn’t asked. Yet. He would as the night progressed but so far he was content to let Dean take him out.

Dean still didn’t know what the hell he was doing, wining and dining his brother, but it was going well and outside a few misunderstandings and arguments dating Sam was easier than he’d thought. Maybe it was because they knew each other so well or maybe it was because they had such a different lifestyle now and they were both aware of how much more they had than they ever had before, but Dean couldn’t remember a time when he’d been happier.

He grabbed a bottle of beer from the bartender, ignoring the way the guy looked him over. It was a mixed crowd, someplace Jess had told Sam about a while back. The type of place Dean Winchester would never be caught dead in. Dean Riley, however, didn’t mind taking his boyfriend out to a dance club every so often. Sam was having a good time and Dean was content watching him on the dance floor, drinking half the bottle in one go as he let his eyes move over his brother’s body. When he made his way up the long stretch of legs and muscular torso, he found Sam staring back at him.

His brother whispered something into one of the girl’s ears and then Sam was moving through the crowd towards Dean, the girls all staring over his way. Sam took the bottle from Dean’s hand and drank the rest of it down as Dean tried not to pay too much attention to the way Sam’s throat worked. He couldn’t help himself when a single line of sweat trailed down his neck though. Dean brought his hand up, trailing the drop, leaving his hand there until Sam dropped his head back down and placed the empty beer bottle on the bar behind him.

“Come on,” Sam pulled at Dean, his fingers in Dean’s belt loops and he just went with it. Sam’s smile was blinding as he maneuvered Dean back onto the floor where he’d left the girls. The music had a heavy bass line and Dean stepped into Sam, laying his hands on Sam’s hips as his brother draped his arms over Dean’s shoulders. Their hips slid together perfectly and Sam followed his movements with practiced ease as he began moving to the music.

It was better than any woman he’d had in his arms, their years of hunting and living in each other’s pockets gave them an ability to read one another that no one, no matter how good a dancer they were, could ever compete with.

The place was hot, packed in tight with the summer crowd and bodies moved against them, touched briefly before moving past, but Dean didn’t notice. Sam was in his arms, so damn perfect and way too close to doing things Dean wasn’t ready for yet. Jesus, he wanted Sam, wanted him in his arms and in his bed and in every way he could imagine, but he couldn’t take that last step yet, wasn’t ready to stop the slow and sensuous dance they were doing with their relationship. Once they crossed that last line, Dean knew it would be different. They’d be different with one another and he liked what they were now. He liked the nights of endless kisses, pressing each other to the back of the couch, or on the floor, or against the kitchen counter. He liked the sweet torture of Sam’s hands on his body, of his mouth against Dean’s skin, of knowing there was something more to come eventually.

Sam’s arms pulled him closer and then his brother’s head was pressed against his neck, Sam’s tongue licking lightly against Dean’s sweaty skin. He moaned and God he wanted that too. As much as he fought it, he couldn’t help the way he pulled Sam’s hips closer, feeling the press of his brother’s erection against his own. Sam’s tongue flicked out again just before his teeth bit down playfully against Dean’s neck.

“Sammy,” he moaned even as he turned his head slightly, giving his brother better access to his neck.

“Yeah?”

“You make me come on the dance floor and I will kick your ass from here to Sunday.”

Sam laughed against his ear. “Might be worth it,” he teased.

When Dean turned his head to catch his brother’s mischievous look though, Sam closed the distance between their lips. Dean’s fingers slipped up under Sam’s shirts, pushed against Sam’s lower back until they couldn’t get any closer. He wanted to taste his brother, lick his way down his neck like Sam had just done to him, feel his nipples pebble under Dean’s tongue, and then slide further down until he could wrap his lips around Sam’s cock. He wanted to lick him open, stretch him wide around his fingers, and watch him open up around his cock as he fucked into him. He wanted Sam’s lips on him, his fingers in him, he wanted it all.

“Fuck,” he pulled back from the kiss, breathing hard and wondering how he was gonna control himself tonight, how he could back himself down when all he wanted was to press ahead. Sam was right there with him, his head lowered so that his lips were pressed to Dean’s temple, breathing fast and shallow. Their bodies kept moving, the beat was still rolling around them and they moved with it, even when Dean knew it was asking for trouble.

“Dean,” Sam’s voice was a whisper in his ear even though he knew he had to be practically screaming to be heard. He didn’t really care. Everything he’d been wanting for the last four years was in his arms and his own line of chivalry was keeping him from having it. Bad fucking timing to grow a conscience.

“Let’s get out of here,” Sam suggested.

“Sam, I … I can’t …”

He didn’t know if he could say it. If he couldn’t say it he didn’t know how he was going to keep Sam from asking for more because tonight he couldn’t say no. He was too weak, too damn selfish to take it slow, to do this the right way.

“I know,” Sam answered as he pulled him from the floor. They were outside and Sam was pushing him back against the Impala’s doors before Sam stopped again. He leaned against Dean, breathing heavily against his neck as he finally found his words again. “I know you aren’t ready for anything more, but I’m sure as hell ready for what we do now,” he said, looking up at Dean with a grin.

He pulled away then, moving to the other side of the Impala, smiling from across the hood when Dean groaned into the night sky.

So maybe he wasn’t going to take things as far as he wanted tonight, but he could imagine Sam, lying back across his navy blue sheets, body twisting and turning under Dean’s hands and that was more than enough.

“Like the way you think, Sammy,” Dean said as he got in the car and started it up. When Sam’s hand landed on his thigh, slowly working its way up Dean shook his head, wondering when the hell he’d ever thought his little brother shy. “I definitely like the way you think.”

 

 


End file.
